


Melava Somniar

by Everyday_Im_Preaching



Series: Pinehollow [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Elf, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cute, Fluff, High-Elf!Bill, M/M, Wood Elf!Dipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 16:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11294079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Preaching/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Preaching
Summary: Love was the soft scent of salt and lemon. Love was smooth skin and soft lips, littering Dipper's skin with flighty kisses. Love was strong hands and a warm, off-tune voice singing his name through the forest after a hunt.Love was Bill.





	Melava Somniar

**Author's Note:**

> There was a demand for more of this au--so I...uh...here it is! 
> 
> As always comments are really, really, really, REALLY, appreciated!!! <3 So if you have the time, please leave one below!!!

“Well _hello_ there, darling.” Bill's voice was gentle and warm as it filtered through the small sitting room, battling with the sound of the construction outside. Upon seeing the size of the house that Dipper had wanted to purchase, Bill had agreed under one condition: that Dipper allow him to build on to it. With a roll of his eyes, the wood elf had agreed. “The light is so generous with you, caressing your skin and kissing your curls.” Dipper turned his head up from the book in his lap. He offered his lover a sleepy grin, ears flicking lazily. “I would like to worship both,” Bill breathed, heels clicking against the hardwood as he paused a few feet from the wood elf.

Bill had gone to the city for the day, just now returning. Judging by the faint smell of salt that accompanied his entrance, Dipper would have to guess that he had been bartering with the men at the docks. Whether it was to swindle their supplies or their workers, Dipper could never quite tell.

“I love you, you know,” Dipper told Bill, carefully marking his place and setting his book aside. Bill's eyes widened and the tips of his ears reddened, burnishing them a soft pink. “What?” Dipper questioned, swinging his legs over the side of the seat, wincing as pins and needles prodded at his lower calves. Bill closed the distance between them with languid, fluid steps that looked more like a misplaced waltz then a simple gait.

“I love you too, my little star,” Bill murmured, carding his long, spindly fingers into Dipper's curls. His lips pressed gently to the wood elf's forehead, ghosting over the birthmark there. Bill drew his knuckles down the tawny, sun-kissed cheek of his lover. He continued to kiss at Dipper's cheeks, chasing dark freckles and pressing his lips against the side of Dipper's nose in a playful sort of praise that had the wood elf laughing.

“How has your day been, _meldā_?” Dipper asked, raising a hand so as to twine his fingers into Bill's hair. Bill let out a quiet hum and pressed a kiss to the corner of Dipper's mouth, shuffling closer. His large body boxed Dipper in as he continued to kiss him, pressing their lips firmly together. With a soft sigh, Dipper hooked an arm around Bill's neck, giggling when he felt the high-elf's blunt tongue lap at his lips.

“It was lonely, without you,” Bill finally responded when he realised that Dipper wasn't going to oblige him. He tilted his head to the side, deciding to press open mouthed kiss to Dipper's neck instead. “I brought you a present.”

“Now why did you go and do that?” Dipper asked, gently running his hands through Bill's hair—he was still sleepy, and Bill was so _warm_ from his work in the sun. Bill shrugged, wrapping his arms fully around his lover. He nuzzled Dipper's neck, letting out a pleased sigh. “You're far too good to me, you know. Don't you know our stereotypes? Me, an ugly, scruffy elf that scrounges in the woods for food— _you,_ a wealthy high-elf—” Dipper was cut off by a rough kiss to his mouth.

“—You are _not_ ugly,” Bill huffed, obviously distressed. He was really crowding Dipper now, pulling and pushing him this way, eventually tugging him from his seat and switching their positions; Dipper was about to ask what his problem was, when he was pulled into Bill's lap. “You are not ugly,” Bill repeated gently, wrapping his arms around Dipper's waist and pulling him tight to his chest.

“Bill,” Dipper muttered, running a hand through Bill's hair.

“You are beautiful, my little star,” Bill whispered, pressing his face against Dipper's shoulder. “I love you so much, and I am so lucky that you took me as your partner. You could have done so much better than a half-breed.” Dipper sighed, slowly massaging his lover's scalp.

“You're so hung up on only being half, aren't you?” Dipper murmured, letting his fingers walk down Bill's neck. Bill didn't answer. “You know that I don't care about your race. I'm in love with you, not your status.” Dipper paused. “And your mother's roasted pheasant.” Bill let out a soft laugh, turning so that his cheek pressed against Dipper's tunic.

“I love you too. But mostly because you're very tiny,” Bill teased. “And very good at balancing books.” He was rewarded with a sharp yank on his hair as a reward for his sass. “Oh, yes. Almost forgot your gift.” Bill pulled back, lips twisted into a soft grin.

Bill searched his pockets for a moment, humming under his breath—it was horribly out of tune and comical in nature, voice pitching high and then low, as if it were a bumpy road. Dipper _loved_ it. It was so unexpected, considering the smooth, rolling baritone that the high-elf typically had. Eventually, slender digits pulled out a small box. Dipper cocked his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow.

“Consider it an official engagement present,” Bill told the wood elf, offering him the velveteen box. Dipper narrowed his eyes at his lover, shifting on the older elf's lap. “You look as if I'm somehow planning to trick you,” Bill teased, kissing the wood elf's cheek.

“You are very tricksy,” Dipper said, carefully taking the box and running his fingers over its fuzzy exterior. Bill shook his head at him, lips drawn down in an exaggerated frown. Dipper rolled his eyes and leaned forward, kissing the corner of the high-elf's mouth. “Pouting will get you nowhere.”

“It got me a kiss,” Bill disagreed instantly, voice retaining the sing-song quality from his earlier humming. “Which means that I might get more if I continue to pout.” He purred, jiggling his legs and shaking Dipper. The wood elf let out an indignant squeak, nearly dropping the box in his hands.

Bill cupped Dipper's hand, steadying it. The wood elf gently lifted the lid of the box, feeling the snap of the brand-new springs as he did so. The soft plucking of a music box greeted his ears, and they flicked in interest. The notes were lower than one could expect from an ordinary music box, beginning with a slight dissonance that had Dipper chuckling. Bill laughed with him, and Dipper felt the high-elf's leg tense nervously beneath him, trying not to shake. A tiny elf, carved to look just like Dipper, spun in the middle of the box. The elf was armed with a tiny, perfectly carved bow—the string on it was taut, ready to fire the arrow that was nocked into it.

Dipper startled when a voice started to slip from the box, eyebrows shooting up on his forehead and going to hover somewhere around his hairline. His jaw went slack, mouth opening slightly as he recognised it as his mother's voice, harmonising with the tinkling music. Dipper slowly raised his head to look at Bill, who shook his head. He brought a finger up to his lips and tapped it there gently. When the second verse began, more voices joined in. Voices he knew and held dear: the voices of his father, his sister, and his great uncles. In fact, the entire tribe was there, voices melding together and creating a melody, singing an old, old lullaby.

 

_Tel'enfenim, da'len_

_Irassal ma ghilas_

_Ma garas mir renan_

_Ara ma'athlan vhenas_

_Ara ma'athlan vhenas._

 

“I have no idea what they're saying,” Bill offered. Dipper's eyes had begun to water, tears threatening to fall. He brushed at them uselessly, sniffling to himself. “But I was never good with elvish. I was a complete dullard—my mother tried her hardest, though.” Bill gently cupped Dipper's face, tipping it up. “Are you alright, darling?” he asked, brushing away any tears that threatened to spill over.

“ _Never fear, little one,_ ” Dipper muttered, closing the lid of the music box. “ _Wherever you shall go, follow my voice. I will call you home._ ” The wood elf managed a weak smile, nuzzling into the hand that was caressing his cheek. “Thank you, Bill. It's nice, having them with me in this way.”

“I… I did something wrong, didn't I?” Bill asked gently, carding his fingers through Dipper's hair. “I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for making you cry, whatever the reason.”

“Bill, no, it's not that kind of crying,” Dipper told him, rubbing at his eyes. His voice was thick with emotion, and that made it hard to speak. “I love it. So much.” He clutched it to his chest tightly, enough so that it dug into his skin. Dipper's chest was heaving as he began to truly sob now, limbs shaking. He all but knocked Bill flat when he flopped forward, burying his face in Bill's chest.

“Darling, is there anything you need?” Bill asked, rubbing his palm across Dipper's upper back in soothing strokes. Bill visibly flinched when the back of the box smacked against his abdomen and began to play again. Dipper sat there through not one, not two, but _three_ repeats of the lullaby. Each play brought forth a new round of tears that Bill attempted to soothe.

“I miss them so much,” Dipper eventually said when he finally let the lullaby end. “You're so… You're so _good,_ Bill. To have done this for me.” He gently stroked the top of the wooden elf's head, and then traced his finger along its ear. “I don't think I can ever express how much this means to me—” Dipper paused to clear his throat. “—Bill, you are… Bill.” He rested his head back against Bill's chest and wrapped his free arm around the high-elf.

“I love you too,” Bill told Dipper, kissing his lover's curls. “Hey, uh. Dipper.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you teach me the lullaby?” Bill asked, turning his face and pressing his cheek against the top of Dipper's head. “I want to learn it.” Dipper nodded, closing his eyes. He splayed his fingers against Bill's lower back, smoothing his hand over the silk there.

“I can. And I will,” Dipper assured; he leaned back to look at his lover. “You look far more radiant in the sun than I ever could,” he murmured, tilting his head to the side as he admired BIll.

High-elves had natural, honeyed skin that basically glowed when the sun touched it. It made the sun framing Bill's face seem like a halo. Pulling his free hand back to him, Dipper used it to pet Bill's face affectionately. The high-elf grinned toothily, dipping his tongue between the small gap in the front of his teeth. Bill turned his head to kiss at Dipper's fingers, nuzzling them happily.

“What were you reading before I came in and disturbed you?” Bill questioned, reaching over to pick up the abandoned book. “A book on traditional human recipes? You are a peach, my dear.”

“Yeah, I am pretty fat and round,” Dipper agreed, relaxing against Bill's chest. He let out a soft whine as a finger gently traced the edge of his ear, Bill humming gently. “Stop that,” Dipper told him, pressing his thumb against Bill's bottom lip. The high-elf didn't look at him, flipping through the book in his hand.

“Stop what? Fantasising about burying my head beneath your thighs?” Bill asked nonchalantly, stopping on a page regarding the proper preparation of stag. Every word that left his mouth brushed against Dipper’s thumb, and he could feel the slight tilt in Bill’s head. He was trying to kiss it. Dipper rolled his eyes, taking a moment to place his music box aside. Hands free, he brought both of his hands down to spread them across Bill's lower abdomen.

“You are incorrigible, Mr. Cipher,” Dipper teased, playing with the end of his tunic. “Or should I say… _Beriothien.”_ Bill let out a melodramatic, antagonised groan, much to Dipper's delight. “Come on, it's kind of hot.”

“It is not hot. At all,” Bill argued, placing the book down. “That is probably the worst name for an elf in the entire existence of the common language. It's absolutely horrendous.” He wrapped his arms around Dipper's torso, brushing their cheeks together. Dipper pressed a kiss to his lover's cheek. “I'm almost afraid to ask what you're elven name is.” The wood elf shrugged and pressed a kiss to Bill's earlobe.

“I won't tell you, either way. That's for our marriage night, _meldā._ Not before,” Dipper told him. Bill let out an exaggerated sigh. “You know I can't tell you.”

“I know. But you know _my_ name,” Bill whined, burying his face back into Dipper's shoulder. Dipper nodded in agreement. “We've lived together so _long,_ why can't I simply know it?”

Dipper deigned to answer, shaking his head softly. He'd answer that too. Someday.

**Author's Note:**

> My beta is EmberGlows!
> 
>  _meldā_ : beloved/my beloved
> 
> [Mir Da'len Somniar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zl3CmzQY1So/) is the song that is playing in the music box in this fic--it's an elven lullaby from the game Dragon Age Inquisition! The lyrics for it are found in The World of Thedas, Volume 2. 
> 
>  
> 
> Want to stay updated? Click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to stay in the know!


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